Travel blog: Road to Rishikesh

A combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin have led Nick Claxton to spend a year travelling the globe. A terminally-disorganised 24-year-old taking on the world - solo. He will be sharing his experiences from India and Nepal, south-east Asia, New Zealand and South America. This month he is reporting from India and Nepal. Here is his sixth blog entry:

I spent a total of three weeks sweating under the desert sun in Pushkar, which seems ridiculous in hindsight.

I enjoyed myself, sure, but the heat became unbearable in the last week - forcing me to fill my empty days in the shade of the hostel rooftop playing chess or biking out into the dunes just to feel the breeze.

This would have been more than tolerable if I hadn't also become aware of the less idyllic side of Pushkar.

In the week before I left wedding season started. Although this added some extra colour and excitement, each morning I was greeted by the cacophony of a new party starting up.

Huge coaches dropped off hundreds of family members who were quickly surrounded by stall owners fighting for sales.

On just one day in the tiny town there were eleven weddings - and this being India, they were not small affairs.

A few days later, I walked into the town and the clutter and filth lining the streets seemed to be much more prevalent. The constant parties had taken their toll on this holy place.

Even before the wedding season, a putrid smell had sometimes wafted through the market from rubbish disposal and drainage systems close to bursting. But now they were overwhelmed and the stench seemed to seep down every alleyway.

Combined with the draining heat, this foul-smelling cloud was insufferable at times - meaning I only wanted go to town when I was starving or at night.

And when I realised that I had seen all the temples, climbed to both the hill shrines, learnt to ride a motorbike well enough to feel comfortable and become addicted to chess, I decided the time was right to move on.

The main question was where? Eventually a plan came together to follow some other guests staying at Athiti and head further north out of the heat.

Our first stop would be Rishikesh - a major draw for me being the link with the Beatles, while others were keen to study yoga or go white-water rafting. Others were planning on heading up to Manali and so we would join them if we didn't hit it off with Rishikesh.

Since I was unwilling to head back through Delhi and my previous experiences of the Indian public transport system had proved enjoyable , I opted to take a bus (400 rupees/£5) direct from Pushkar to Haridwar - only around 20km from Rishikesh.

The trains had given me high hopes and I was hoping for more of the same from the overnight sleeper bus. But from the first glimpse of our ride as it lurched into the bus stand I was distinctly underwhelmed.

The tatty décor and bumpy suspension was not completely unexpected but there was a bigger problem.

The booking agency had told us that the sleeper tickets included a bed and separate upright seat - so we had thought it no problem to share a double and keep all our stuff close to hand.

But after much arguing at the bus stand, this was strenuously denied by the drivers. So being pushed for luggage space, we had to rather unwillingly dump our bags in the back of the bus out of our sight - meaning I worried that someone would walk off with it every time we stopped.

But with no other choice, we made ourselves as comfortable as possible up on the raised bed and tried to get used to its irregular swaying motion as the bus swerved around bikes, cars, camels and carts.

Exhaustion from the heat meant I managed about four hours sleep that night - more than I had thought possible after the first few miles of constant jarring bumps.

I made it to Haridwar in one piece and although the ride hadn't been enjoyable, it was pretty quick - 18 hours driving all through the night.

After rowing with Haridwar tuk-tuk drivers who tried to drop us off in the middle of nowhere - tell them exactly where you want to go rather than just 'Rishikesh' and don't pay more than 200 rupees at the outside (£2.50) - we finally made it to Lashman Jhula.

We stayed at the recommended Sant Sewa Ashram (rooms range from 150 to 500 rupees a night, although the best view may be from the cheaper ones on the roof).

After grabbing some food, we went to take our first look at the Ganges and enjoy a dip in its waters - said to carry the healing power of Shiva which can cleanse you of all sin.

The mountain air was a relief after the hot blasts of Pushkar and the whole Rishikesh atmosphere seemed so relaxed. People sunbathed on the beaches or did yoga as chanting echoed down the river - it seems everywhere I go in India seems idyllic at first.

I just hope my impressions of Rishikesh are longer lasting than those of Pushkar.

Nick Claxton